This post presents page 2 of 13 of Thein Pe Myint's 1938 short story "Oil". This copy has been downloaded from the "Burmese Classic" website, which has an excellent collection of Myanmar books in PDF format.
Vocabulary:
ဆက်ဆက် ။ without fail
တန်းလျား ။ long low building; barracks
ချွဲ ။ sticky, slimy, greasy; produce a pleasing tone
ငင် ။ pull, draw
ပက်လက် ။ one's back ; supine
ပျဉ်ထောင်အိမ် ။ wooden house
ကျားကန် ။ buttress; prop; shore
ရွတ်ဖတ် ။ read aloud; recite
မျက်ခွက် ။ face
မျက်စောင်းထိုး ။ cast a side glance
ကြမ်းပိုး ။ bed bug
ဆင့်ကဲဆင့်ကဲ ။ one after another; successively
ဆင့် ။ to order
ဟန့် ။ prevent or stop someone from doing or saying sth.
Translation:
"And certainly not die." The sounds of this singing emerged in a long drawn out manner from the row of coolie barracks that were drowned in thick darkness.
"Hey, Kyaw Yin! The sound of your singing is good, but I don't understand it. What is it?" asked Ko Lu Dote to his 9-year-old son Kyaw Yin.
While reclining on his back in a wooden house and propping up his feet, Kyaw Yin was reading aloud, as much as he had studied, as much as he had learned, as much as he remembered from the BOC school.
"What's the song that you sang?"
"Ha, father, it's not a song. It's a hymn. [My] teacher taught it," he replied while casting a side glance at his father whose face he could not see.
"I have heard the hymn before. Tell me what the meaning is. It [bites] more than a bed bug that bites," Ko Lu Dote said and sat up from bed.
"I can't say. It says "May our great king be glorious. May our great king's waters and lands increase. We must make obeisance and petition the Master King," Kyaw Yin said and reached out and hit [his] older sister Mya Nyunt who was about 12 year old with [his] fist.
"Ha, I'm going to sleep. You're really loud."
"Loud. Loud," Kyaw Yin said and repeatedly punched Mya Nyunt again with [his] fist.
"Hey Kyaw! Do you want to be tormented? Go to sleep," [she said and] without ordering, prevented [him from hitting her].
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